


Primal Instinct

by YunaFire



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Bestiality, Bondage, Other, non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-09 00:11:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/767718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YunaFire/pseuds/YunaFire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "I want Will held down and fucked by a dog."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Primal Instinct

**Author's Note:**

> This story features non-con bestiality and bondage. If none of those are your thing... well, firstly, I question why you clicked on a title that states "fucked by a dog" in the summary. But, anyway, best to turn back now if any of those are your squicks.

Will wakes up to darkness and realizes at once he's blindfolded. He moves his head, and a heavy collar bites into his neck. Chained to the floor on a short leash, with his hands bound in a similar fashion, outstretched in front of him. He breathes rapidly through his nostrils. Panic doesn't hit like a splash of cold water. It's a slow chill, steadily increasing with each new discovery. It makes the room he's in that much colder.

In his mouth, a large round gag. He feels its strap pressing against his cheek. He tries to move his legs and finds those, too, similarly incapacitated. Spread out, exposed, blind and rendered mute, he is a sacrificial lamb on someone's altar. His captor doesn't want to reason, doesn't want protests.

Will Graham is, for reasons wholly unrelated to his methods of thinking and his chosen profession, terrified.

He hears behind him soft footfalls and scraping; unmistakable sounds of a large dog. The creature circles him, sniffing, exploring what has been laid out for him. Its foul breath invades Will's nostrils, followed soon by a soft lick on his cheek like a loving kiss. The dog continues its circling, and soon a cold, wet nose presses against Will's exposed hole, followed soon by that gentle tongue. Will shivers, bites into the gag, hunches his shoulders. No, no, no, _no_ , this _wasn't_ happening. His feeling of disgust paralleled his perverse lust. It shouldn't feel good, he should ignore it. Deprived of all other sensations, his mind hones in on this one, the stimulation amplified. Despite himself, and the situation, he feels himself relaxing, surprised to hear himself moaning.

That brief sense of calm all too soon ends when the dog decides that was enough foreplay. He stands, hips already moving in primitive demand against the unwilling captive. The heavy dog's claws scratch Will's back repeatedly as he seeks to steady himself. Fresh blood wells up from several new cuts. The white hot pain makes him cry out, the sound reduced to a groan against the gag. He jerks forward, instinctively trying to escape, even as he logically knows there isn't one. The dog growls close to his ear then nips a warning into his shoulder. Will stops moving immediately. He's rewarded with a lick to the shallow bite mark; a master pleased with his pet. He feels a strange sense of pleasure at thought, at being obedient.

His thoughts abruptly cut off as the dog slams into him. His muffled scream of surprise and pain is indistinguishable from a moan of pleasure. It matters not to the dog at all, who immediately begins a savage, brutal pace, caring only for his own release. Will scratches helplessly into the cold, unforgiving cement beneath him. There is, surprisingly, not as much pain as he'd expected. On that comes the realization he must've been stretched and prepared, and who knows what else, while he lie unconscious.

Drool lands on his back as the dog's tongue hangs loose. Some lands on his bare skin, others into the scratches; proverbial salt into the wounds. Will hisses as best he can. His own saliva is pooling at his lips, then falling with each thrust from the beast.

Disgust and guilt strike anew when he feels himself reacting to the way he was being used. He unexpectedly thinks of Crawford, the Bureau, how he was used for his intellect and empathy. For once, he was being used for something else, a quality so easily attributed to many. He was just a hole to fuck, nothing more. Nothing about his reaction to that thought made sense. So he simply stopped thinking. He gave into whatever strange, primal instinct responded to being made into a literal bitch.

As best he could, he began moving with the dog, seeking more of that sensation. The creature all too gladly gave him all he wanted, pounding into him. Will whines with need, his erection a throbbing demand beneath him. They mate this way, two beasts with pent-up frustrations, enjoying each other and forgetting the world for as long as their bodies allow them to. Those sharp claws suddenly dig into his hips, harsh and cruel, and the fresh scent of blood sends Will over the edge with a strangled sound. His body clenches against the unforgiving cock inside him and he feels the dog getting ready for his own release. Will's too exhausted, physically and mentally, to care how much it might hurt.

Were those footsteps he heard? His captor coming to gloat at Will's position?

Slumped against the ground, waiting for the beast to finish, he offers no resistance to the gentle hand at his cheek. He nuzzles into with a pleading whine. _Just let this end. Please, no more..._ Slender, graceful fingers stroke his skin as they move his head aside. Will barely feels the thin needle sliding into his neck. 

"Sleep, my dear Will." Hannibal's voice, soft and accented, now carries with it a hard edge; a commanding tone. It'd accept no denial, even if Will had any to give. "I will take care of everything."

He felt a chill at his back as the dog was shoved away. The last thing he heard before the drug took hold was a man's screams of agony. The kind one has when their throat is slit. Will dreams of blood spatter on the walls.


End file.
